


over his shoulder.

by bittertofu



Series: thirty-five ways he said 'i love you.' [21]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 17:52:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11086830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittertofu/pseuds/bittertofu
Summary: His reason for doing this was...





	over his shoulder.

**Author's Note:**

> a series of drabbles.
> 
> this one is pretty plot-heavy but pretty weak. less fluff. sorry about that.

Akechi kept a careful hand on the pulse of his connections, monitoring for any sign of change in Shido's behaviour. It wouldn't be long now. Ideally, the day of the elections would bring everything crashing down. It was always a little hard to tell what making someone go berserk would do; there was a degree of unpredictability there, but whatever happened, hopefully it would be enough to get Shido arrested for good.

He supposed he could have triggered a change of heart, but there didn't seem to be enough justice in that. Besides, Shido going berserk would be the last hammer of proof on the nail of Akechi's claim that he had the power to do exactly what he told Sae he could.

Speaking of Sae, she had obviously been avoiding him lately. Probably, Akechi figured, to distance herself as much as possible from any emotional attachment she may have had to him before. If she was to prosecute him, she couldn't hesitate. Akechi understood, of course, though it made him a little sad. He'd appreciated Sae's quiet companionship over the past year.

“Working again?”

Akechi stirred, looked up from the paperwork spread out before him to see Akira leaning on the counter. Akechi smiled, just a bit.

“There's always work to be done.”

“Give yourself a break sometimes.”

“I consider my dalliance with the Thieves as something of a vacation. It's about time I got back to the real world.”

Akira made a noise that was not quite a snort.

“That wasn't a vacation,” he countered. “That was you working harder than ever.”

“Don't you have customers to attend to?”

Akira waved his hand, went back to whatever he was doing before.

Akechi gathered up his papers and slid them into their attending file folder. It maybe wasn't very professional, bringing police work into a cafe, but Leblanc was the only place he really felt at ease. Hardly anyone bothered him here, since the clientele was mostly local elderly folk and the occasional tourist. The once-in-awhile high school students always seemed like they wanted to approach him, but they rarely ever did. Perhaps his celebrity status was too intimidating.

Plus...

He watched Akira move behind the counter, taking orders, serving coffee and curry, smiling at customers in his light, easy way. Akechi's heart constricted in his chest.

“Oh, you _are_ here.”

Akechi blinked, shifted in his seat, turned to face the source of the new voice. Makoto Niijima stood at the entrance to Leblanc, watching him. She approached quietly, put her closed hand on the counter beside Akechi.

“Sae wanted me to give this to you.”

She withdrew her hand, and a simple, black USB sat beside his arm. Akechi stared at it a moment before picking it up and slipping it into his pocket.

“Thank you,” he said, simply.

A moment of awkward silence hung between them. Makoto rocked on her toes, clearly wanting to say something, but not knowing what. Akechi sighed, rubbed his hand on the back of his neck.

“So, Ms. Niijima, have you been well?”

Makoto shook her head. “I should be asking you that. Your injury...”

“It's quite alright. Dr. Takemi took good care of me.”

“I don't doubt that. It's just...”

She looked from side to side, as if making sure no one was listening. Then she leaned forward and said, quietly, “It was from the Metaverse, wasn't it? Your wound? Sae said you never told anyone how you got hurt...”

Akechi bristled. “It was nothing,” he lied. “I let my guard down.”

“But...why were you in the Metaverse?”

She was sharp, Makoto Niijima. He'd been careless, with her. Careless in the Metaverse, too, when he'd let the cognition of him land such a fatal hit. He couldn't afford to be careless anymore.

“I had to check on something,” he answered, trying hard to keep his voice light. “It's really nothing to worry about.”

Makoto pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes. She searched Akechi for...something, but he studiously kept his face a mask beneath his smile. Finally she sighed and backed away.

“Just remember,” she murmured, “we're keeping an eye on you.”

“Of course,” said Akechi. “I wouldn't expect anything less from you.”

Tension hung heavy in the air between them, so thick, Akechi thought, it could be cut through with a knife. It was into this tension that Akira Kurusu walked headlong.

“Makoto,” he said by way of greeting. “I didn't see you come in.”

He flashed her a brilliant smile, and Akechi bit back a surge of annoyance. Either Akira really couldn't read the mood, or he really didn't care. Akechi suspected it was the latter. Either way, he kept his own smile perfectly in place.

“I just came to deliver something to him,” she explained, nodding in Akechi's direction. “Something from my sister.”

“Goro?” Akira asked, raising an eyebrow. “From Sae? I see...”

Akechi wondered how it was Akira could use given names so easily. He didn't think it was out of a lack of respect, although, given Akira's generally cavalier attitude, he might not have felt it worth showing respect to many people. Or perhaps he just didn't think about it. That would be just like him, Akechi thought with a chuckle.

“Something funny?” Makoto asked.

“Excuse me,” Akechi said, “I was just thinking how wonderful it is that Akira has you for a friend.”

He could see in her face that she knew he was lying, but he didn't feel like explaining his thought processes to her. It didn't seem worth the effort, given that she clearly didn't appreciate whatever was going on between him and Akira. Not that he knew exactly what it was, either, but that was something he preferred not to think about.

“I should be taking my leave,” Akechi said, pushing back from the counter, standing up. “There's much to do before the weekend hits.”

Makoto peered at him again. Her intense gaze made Akechi uncomfortable. She was too smart for her own good. He waved at her, waved at Akira, and headed for the door. Akira had already gone back to making coffee, and he called out over his shoulder, “See you around, honey.”

Akechi slapped his hand over his face. Even after all this time, he could not _believe_ how forward Akira could be. Sometimes he still couldn't tell when Akira was playing with him, even though there wasn't much of a reason to be anymore.

Without answering, he pushed out of Leblanc and hurried home. Despite the flush in his cheeks, he recognized that there was a bigger problem looming ahead of him—namely, Masayoshi Shido. The USB from Sae must have held some important new information. But then, why would she risk passing it to him through Makoto? That seemed suspicious, even given the possibility that Sae was merely doing her best to avoid him.

Akechi plugged the USB into his laptop the moment he got home. As he suspected, it contained private reports from Masayoshi Shido's physicians about unusual changes in his behaviour. It suddenly made sense why Sae didn't mind handing it to him through Makoto, because the documents were all carefully disguised in such a way that only Akechi could possibly understand them. They looked like simple pediatrician reports about some child named Ryota Watanabe, who apparently had to have his appendix removed. The reports were also scattered among bills, among news clippings, among economic forecasts. There was no rhyme or reason to anything contained in the USB at all, unless one knew what they were looking for.

The question remained, though—how did Sae Niijima get her hands on this?

“I hope you're not getting in too deep, Ms. Niijima,” Akechi murmured to himself, reaching for his cellphone.

He didn't think she would answer, but he gave calling her a try anyway. As he suspected, after seven rings, the call went straight to voicemail. Akechi hung up and continued scrolling through the documents, scanning, scanning, scanning for important clues that might give any indication Shido would do something dangerous.

Nothing drastic so far. Just increasing withdrawal from public life. Just minor shortness of temper.

Akechi leaned back and pressed his hands over his aching eyes. He was doing this for his own sake, he told himself, rolling the knots out of his shoulders. For his own sake...

Yet in the dark behind his eyes, it was Akira Kurusu's face that smiled back at him.

 


End file.
